


Sketchable

by whostolemycrazy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:33:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3880666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whostolemycrazy/pseuds/whostolemycrazy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt:<br/>"Imagine Person A of your OTP seeing Person B with bed hair for the first time, and being totally blown away by how cute/hot/etc. they look with their hair being a huge mess. Bonus: if Person A gets flustered when Person B pokes fun at them for liking it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sketchable

Clarke Griffin was not an early riser. As she was usually on the night shift at the hospital, this normally worked well for her. Even on weekends she slept in, waiting until she could smell Bellamy’s famous pancakes before trudging her way into the kitchen of their little apartment, where there was a plate and an early morning kiss waiting for her. And an entire pot of coffee.

That was how, in the three months she and Bellamy had lived together, she had not once woken up before him. Until today. Call it fate, or, more likely, an actual good night’s sleep (those were rare), but she was awake, and there was no way she was getting back to sleep. So instead she made herself a cup of coffee and was going to try and to get some emails sent out. Or she was if she hadn’t been so distracted…

The distraction, not even aware that he was one, was lying on his back in bed, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and blankets tangled in his legs. One arm was thrown halfhazardly on her empty side of the bed and the other bent under his head, right near his deliciously tangled mop of dark curls. 

This is what had Clarke truly distracted. Bellamy was not the type to admit it, but he took pride in his well managed curls. He didn’t gel it as he used to, but he ran a comb through it in the mornings and fingercombed it constantly throughout the day. So Clarke had never seen it this messy.

It was also getting long, nearing time for him to get it cut, but today it just added to the charm. In fact it was the bed head that finally caused Clarke to grab her sketchbook from the night stand. She sketched a quick profile of his torso arms, before really concentrating on the hair, trying to perfect his sleep-tossed mop before he woke up.

No such luck though. She knew he was awake when she switched to work on his peaceful face and saw that a self-satisfied smirk had replaced it. His eyes were still closed, so she glared and poked him with her pencil, making him laugh, his still sleepy eyes opening.

“Sorry,” he said, sleep and laughter marring his tone. “Didn’t want to disturb the Princess.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, but could feel a blush building as he sat up, her eyes looking him up and down before finally fixating again on his curls. She bit her lip, a smile forming slowly.

It took a few seconds to realize that Bellamy had stopped moving and was watching her with a funny face. She could feel her eyes getting wide and her face getting even warmer.

“Whatcha starin’ at, Princess? See something you like?” he waggled his eyebrows before his eyes caught sight of her sketchbook. Suddenly, there was a gleam of recognition. “Whatcha drawin’?”

“Nothing!” Clarke said, too quickly. She wrapped her arms around the book, getting up from her spot and backing towards the door slowly.

“Oh really? Cause it doesn’t look like nothing.” Bellamy was now on his feet too, following her, a mischievious smile on his face.

“It is nothing! It was-” But before Clarke could finish her sentence, Bellamy was chasing her through the house as she laughed, clutching her sketchbook to her. He finally got her cornered in the living room, and he held out his hand for the sketchbook, still smiling. She bit her lip again, still smiling as well, but nervous as she let him take it, watching as he examined her work. It was obvious from the darker lines of his curls compared to the light, rough sketch of his torso and arms what had caught her attention.

“Princess? Do you have a thing for bed head?” He looked up at her, amused, as her face warmed again.

“No!” she answered, defensively. “I obviously have just never seen it like this and it caught my attention is all.” Her voice took a haughty turn, a a slightly higher register than normal. She pushed past him as he laughed, her head held high. He wasn’t far behind though, catching her waist from behind.

“Awwwww, I’m sorry babe. I just think that is the cutest thing I have ever seen. You totally have a thing for bed head.” Clarke crossed her arms, but stopped moving, not fully deciding whether to forgive him or not. Finally she turned, shoulders relaxing, and leaned up to give him a kiss, which he happily returned.

“You know,” he said after a bit. “You can touch it if you want.” He smirked and winked at her. She did take him up on that offer, but not before slapping his arm in retribution.

And if he made a point of no longer combing his hair on weekends, you didn’t see her complaing. But only because his bed hair was just so, completely sketchable of course…

**Author's Note:**

> I am a total, complete fluff monster. That is all.


End file.
